The Exile
by jazzpha
Summary: Ancient Rome AU. Asami, relatively recent ascendant to the Imperial Throne, struggles with finding ways to get the people's support. Her advisor, Wan, has an idea- but it involves gladiatorial games. Although resistant at first, Empress Asami comes around in the end... and her search for a suitable champion turns up the most unexpected of candidates. Korrasami. One-shot.


**The Exile**

* * *

"I have a question, Wan."

"I will do my best to answer it, Caesar."

The young woman lying on the couch laughed, taking a bite of a piece of fruit before speaking again.

"You don't have to call me that in private," the Caesar said, still smiling. "I have a name."

"Assuming anywhere in this palace is 'private', Asami," Wan replied, scratching absently at his short, pointed beard. "But you said you had a question, didn't you?"

"I do," the Caesar said, sitting up on her couch. "I've come to see over the years that the Senate doesn't respect me the way they respected my father. I'd like to know how you might recommend changing that."

Wan arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"And what makes you think I know how to win the favor a bunch of old, pompous windbags?"

Asami laughed again, her green eyes bright.

"Now you're just being coy," she said. "You advised my father for years, and basically raised me after my parents died. I'm only still on my throne because of you, Wan. That's why I think you know how politics works. Now stop being so self-deprecating and answer my question. Don't make me make it an order. You know I will if I have to," Asami finished, glaring at Wan playfully. He chuckled and relented with a sigh, still unable to say no to her after all these years.

"Very well, Caesar," he said, smirking as he saw Asami's eyebrows furrow at the use of her title. "The Senate's only been able to slant public opinion against you because of how much you break from what the people see as… well, 'normal', for lack of a better word. You've fought no wars since your ascension, for one—which I agree with, before you cut me off—but more importantly for the common people, you haven't thrown any public Games since you became Caesar. The people need to be entertained if they're to stay happy, Asami."

"Are the chariot races not enough?" Asami asked, standing up and beginning to pace. "I hear whispers in the palace that the races I've put on are some of the best people have ever seen… and I've won every single one of them! What more do they want from me?"

Wan frowned.

"You know the answer to that question."

Asami whirled and glared again, a storm of black hair and green eyes. But this time, there was no humor in the gesture.

"I won't put on a bloodsport," she said. "I won't do it. No one dies in the arena."

"And a score of broken legs and dead horses on the Circus track is different, how?" Wan pressed. "The people want their gladiatorial matches, Asami. If you want the love of the people, give them what they're clamoring for. And find yourself a good champion who'll dedicate all their victories to you, while you're at it."

Now it was Asami's turn to be confused.

"Wouldn't they just do that anyway?"

"Not when the Senators are the ones bankrolling them."

"Damn it," Asami cursed, biting her lip. She was silent for a few long moments, before she relented with a sigh.

"Fine," she said. "Put on your civilian clothes and come down with me to the market. If I'm going to put a champion in the arena, I want it to be someone I pick myself."

"A wise choice. But why not just have the slavers come to you?"

Asami smiled.

"Because someone pays the slavers," she said. "If we want to make sure the Senators aren't pulling any strings, we have to do this all ourselves, under cover. They can't know what we're up to."

Wan smiled in kind, proud of his protégé.

"And you say you're only on your throne because of me," he said with another chuckle. "Right. I'll go get ready."

* * *

The slave market was as bustling and alive as ever, with merchants hawking their stocks at obnoxiously high, shrill volume while they all competed with one another for attention. Asami and Wan carefully made their way through the crowd, hoping no one would recognize them disguised as they were in common clothing.

"This is repulsive," Asami said as she saw a mother being wrenched away from her daughter and sold to a different buyer. "Someday, I'm going to have the whole trade abolished."

"Good luck with doing that and not getting assassinated three hours later," Wan said, his cynicism cut by a tone of agreement beneath his words. "Too many people in your Empire have a vested interest in this enterprise continuing, and they'd be very mad with whomever took it away from them. Not to mention the economic impact, of course."

"There're other ways to make money," Asami said. "Besides, I'm pretty sure slaves would do better work if they weren't treated like livestock."

"The only other economic foundation we had was war," Wan replied as the pair finally came upon a promising slave, a tall, young and powerful woman who looked to be from the distant tribes who lived out on the cold icy plains to the north. "And you already took a big risk bringing the army to heel."

"Still, I'll think of something," Asami replied to her adviser, adamant. "There has to be some other industry to take the place of this kind of trade."

Wan smiled, secretly confident that if anyone could succeed where Hiroshi had failed, it was his daughter.

"If this makes you uncomfortable," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice, "you could always marry one of your many suitors instead. That would make the Senators happy, I think. Especially Ma—"

"Finish his name, and I'll punch you so hard you'll be feeling it next week. We've talked about my… suitors before," Asami replied, sounding disgusted. "They're all pigs."

Wan laughed.

"You're not getting an apology from me, so don't wait for one."

"I hate you," Asami said, pouting.

"Gentlemen of the Empire!" the trader who presided over the young Northern woman called out, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. "I have here today for you a most exquisite specimen, a most rare find! Here is a young, strong and capable slave who calls herself Raava. I've seen her in action, most noble gentlemen, and I can vouch for her skills. She is no shrinking hyacinth, my good sirs. She can swing an axe or cook a meal equally well, and is perfectly docile when dealt with strongly. I'm opening the bidding at three hundred denarii. Make your voices heard, my friends!"

The young woman stood on the platform clothed in little besides what was essential for her modesty, the likely purpose of which made Asami want to retch. But at the same time, the display was… enticing, to put it mildly. The Empress found her eyes wandering up and down and back up again, admiring the young woman's toned muscles as they went. When they finally reached her face again, Asami was surprised to find the slave staring at her, an unreadable look in her eyes and an openly hungry smile on her face.

_Oh._

Asami held her gaze and smiled right back, determined not to give ground. As the two women silently gauged each other, Wan trained his eyes on the slave. He was quick to notice her scars, faded and almost all but hidden to anyone who hadn't been a soldier. His curiosity piqued, Wan studied her face for a few long moments, wondering why she seemed so familiar.

When the truth finally hit him, Wan had to fight not to take a step backwards and bump into the person behind him. This young woman's name wasn't 'Raava' at all, any more than Wan was the wealthiest man in Rome.

He knew exactly who she was, and could only hope that no one else here came to the same realization he had.

"One-thousand denarii!" Wan called out, drawing the attention of everyone in the bidding. 'Raava' was shocked, and the slave auctioneer was beyond delighted.

"Wow, what a bid!" he crowed. "Can anyone challenge that? No? Nobody? Very well, then. Sold!"

The Northern woman was led down off the platform and towards where Wan was waiting, as the disappointed crowd around him slowly dispersed.

"Go talk to the auctioneer," Wan whispered to Asami. "Tell him you're my servant, and that you'll arrange for the payment to be made in the forum this afternoon. Use whatever name you want for me, that doesn't matter. In the meantime, I need to have a chat with our 'champion'."

"Is everything all right?" Asami asked, and Wan smiled wide.

"More than you realize," he said. "I think you'll be in very good shape in the arena."

Asami arched an eyebrow but said no more, trusting her advisor and going to speak with the auctioneer. Wan, meanwhile, grabbed and quickly paid for a nearby tunic and pair of foreign-made pants, handing them to 'Raava' as she approached, regarding Wan cautiously.

"That was quite the bid," the Northern woman said, her blue eyes suspicious. "Dare I ask what you plan on using me for?"

"Killing people in the arena," Wan said bluntly as the Northern woman got dressed, earning a surprised look in return as she pulled on her pants. "My Mistress is interested in a champion for the Games she plans to host in a few weeks. Someone who will win, and win her the love of the people in return."

"Odd choice for a female slave," 'Raava' said. "Are women even allowed on the sand?"

"No law says they aren't," Wan answered. "It's just very rare. But I think we both know you would excel at it, Korra."

The sound of the name made the Northern woman stand up straight as a rod, and she stared at Wan with wide eyes.

"What did you just call me?"

"Your name," Wan said, holding her gaze. "Korra. Daughter of Tonraq, Reaver of the North. What are you doing all the way out here, kid?"

"Wait, I know you," Korra deflected, her eyes narrowing. "You're Wan. Advisor to the Emperor. I remember you from one of those boring political summits about a decade ago."

"The one and only," Wan said with a roguish smile, his eyes glinting beneath his hood.

"But then that would mean…" Korra continued, trailing off as her eyes widened when the reality of the situation hit her. "Oh, wow."

"Pretty much," Wan said, still smiling. "There're far worse patrons to have, don't you think?"

Korra laughed.

"Absolutely."

"But you still haven't answered my question," Wan pressed. "How did you go from nobility to slavery, Korra?"

"There was… a coup," Korra said softly, her blue eyes melancholy with the memory. "Unalaq rules the North, now. The rest of my family was just as lucky as me, but we got split up on the voyage here. I have no idea where they are."

"I'm truly sorry to hear that, Korra," Wan replied. "Your father is one of the best men I've ever met. I'm sure the Fates will see fit to cross your paths again."

"I hope so," Korra said, mustering a weak smile as Asami walked over to rejoin them, a dejected look on her face.

"He says he'll only deal directly with you," she said. "I don't think he even recognized me. Which I guess is a good thing, but still."

Wan chuckled, shaking his head as he unfastened his dagger from the loop that fastened it to his waist.

"Here, Korra," he said, handing her the blade. "Make sure she gets home safely. And if something bad does happen, consider it an audition."

Korra's smile widened.

"Understood."

"Will you be okay?" Asami asked, and Wan nodded.

"I've been through far worse than this," he answered. "Remind me to tell you a story about the time I took on a wolf pack once, when I was younger. That was fun."

"You did _what_?" Asami half-shouted, but Wan had already turned around and begun to leave. Korra tapped her on the arm and began to walk ahead of Asami, leaving her to follow.

"Wan told me why you bought me," Korra said as soon as they were out of the public eye, walking down a side-street towards the palace. "You need me to carve some people up in the arena, I can do that for you no problem."

Asami winced.

"It sounds so brutal when you put it that way," she said, and Korra looked at her in mild confusion.

"Killing people for sport is basically the definition of brutal, Asami," she said. "I'd get used to it now, if I were you."

"I know, but…" Asami sighed, before she realized something and looked over at Korra in surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"I figured out who you were as soon as I recognized Wan," Korra answered. "We met once, a long time ago. I was… different then," she finished, her voice quieting as a sad look came into her eyes again. "That's why Wan called me 'Korra', back there. That's my real name."

"Wait, I know that name," Asami said, focusing as she tried to remember where she knew it from, exactly. "I heard it once, in a history lesson. Are you the daughter of Tonraq?"

"That's me, at your service," Korra said with a strained smile. "But I'm no Princess anymore. Obviously," she finished with a bitter laugh. "Look at these rags."

"Well, I think you look beautiful," Asami said, smiling warmly. "Clothes aren't everything, Korra."

Korra was taken aback by the compliment, and had to quickly fight the shadow of a blush from her cheeks. Asami caught it, though, and giggled.

"Damn it," Korra cursed, frowning in a way that Asami couldn't help but find adorable.

"You don't look like much of a warrior to me," the Empress said, her voice teasing. "How do I know you're really as strong as you say you are?"

Korra balked and huffed, standing up straight and assuming an authoritative posture that had the rather pleasant effect of pushing her chest forward proudly.

"Tell me to kill something for you, and I'll kill it. Any way you want. That's the deal, right?"

"Oh, I don't know," Asami said, still teasing as she toyed absently with a strand of her long black hair, winding and unwinding it around her forefinger. "Having you audition for me by killing someone seems kind of… grim. I can think of another way for you to show me how strong you are," she finished, a tone coming into her voice that was not at all teasing. "Want to know what it is, Korra?"

"I have an idea," Korra said, grinning wolfishly as she walked towards Asami. "But what should I tell your poor suitors?"

"I'll take care of them," Asami said with a laugh. "Unless you want to? I'd imagine you have experience chasing off tho—ssmmmhh!" she stalled out, cut off by a finger over her lips.

"If you want to do this right," Korra said, a hunger in her voice that made the hairs on the back of Asami's neck stand up, "I need your full attention. Can you give that to me, Mistress?"

The slant Korra put on the last word made Asami's knees buckle, but she kept her footing and nodded.

"Good," Korra said, before she took her finger away and quickly moved in to kiss the Empress.

There was the same hunger that had been in Korra's voice, and need beneath that. Asami had understood how lonely Korra must be, but actually _feeling_ it was something else entirely. She responded with as much tenderness as she could, but that wasn't enough for Korra. Asami found herself up against the brick wall behind her a moment later, Korra's hands sliding up to pin Asami's wrists slightly above her head. The Northern warrior was warm against her, and Asami felt her concentration quickly melting away.

A low moan involuntarily rose from her throat, and Korra grinned against the Empress' lips as she pulled away at last. Her tongue trailed slowly across her own lips, her blue eyes looking impossibly satisfied.

"That's it?" Asami couldn't stop herself from asking, sounding incredibly disappointed.

Korra laughed.

"Well, this isn't really a safe place for much else, and especially not for you. Besides," she added with a smirk that sent a shiver running through Asami all over again, "I need to keep something up my sleeve to celebrate my first victory, don't I? Assuming I got the job, that is," Korra finished, a teasing glint in her eyes this time.

"Oh. Oh, yes. Yes, you got the job. Yes. Of course," Asami half-stuttered, trying to remember how to speak.

Korra laughed again.

"I won't disappoint you, Mistress. C'mon, let's get you home. Wan will probably have a heart attack if he gets there before we do, no matter what he says."

Asami laughed, and the two young women began to walk again, Asami straightening her clothes out as she went. A few moments later, a thought occurred to her and she frowned.

"Just… be careful in the arena, all right?"

"I always am. Is that an order?"

"I don't think I could order you to do anything right now that wouldn't involve another wall," Asami said, not even trying to hide her blush. "No, it isn't. Just… promise me, Korra. I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"I promise I won't," Korra said, putting a gentle hand on Asami's shoulder. "I owe you at least that much, for keeping me out of the wrong hands."

"Oh, I think my hands are capable of quite a bit of wrong," Asami said, causing Korra to reflexively cough in shock. The Empress giggled again.

"Too easy," Asami said, and Korra huffed again.

"Not fair. I'm going to get you back for that, you know."

"I look forward to it, my Champion," Asami said, something in her voice that made Korra's fists clench involuntarily.

The pair found themselves becoming acquainted with most of the walls between there and the palace by the time they got back home, where Wan was still fortunately nowhere to be seen.

* * *

...

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**A/N: **As always, I regret nothing. Hope you enjoyed it! Many thanks to k-y-h-u over on tumblr for her art that inspired this drabble. She's a wonderfully horrible influence on me. ;)


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